run, little lion girl
by phoebehhh
Summary: the fire is coming, so I think we should run; but not everyone escapes the flames, my dear. {a christmas present for a friend in 2013}


Annie stared at the rivulets of red that ran down Julian's face, horrifyingly transfixed by the gaping wound that Mikasa's blade had ripped open in his gut. As she watched him bleed himself dry, stoic emotions gave away to a whirlwind of emotion, the most potent one a fiery rage for what Mikasa Ackerman had wrought.

 _"_ _You,_ _"_ she hissed, turning to the girl with the sad, dark eyes. _"_ _What the fuck have you done?"_

Mikasa's gaze was hard as iron; unflinching. "What I had to do."

 _"_ _Fuck you,_ _"_ Annie snarled, kneeling by Julian's side. He blinked sluggishly, losing recognition of his surroundings. _"_ _Julian,_ _"_ she called to him, heart pounding in a silent plea, "Please. Can you hear me?"

"This wouldn't have happened if he wasn't trying to protect you-"

 _"_ _Shut the hell up,_ _"_ Annie growled, grabbing his chin and tilting Julian's face so that she could look him in the eye. "Julian? _Answer me, damn it!_ "

Wincing, Julian blinked, meeting Annie's eyes, before giving her a slow smile. His teeth were stained with blood, his lips smudged with the precious fluid. Annie felt her gut clench in horror, and solemnly swore that she would not retch.

 _"_ _Annie_ _,"_ Julian said, the same old smile on his face, and Annie felt her heart drop out from under her. "Annie, you're okay. _You're okay_ _._ Right?"

Annie choked back a sob. _I will not cry, I will not cry,_ she told herself, but she already felt the warm tears streaking across her face in a silent mourn. "I'm okay," she told him. " I'm okay. Don't worry about me."

Julian looked at her thoughtfully, coherence slowly fading from his eyes. He placed a palm on her cheek, rubbing his thumb over her face. "Don't cry, Lionheart," he whispered, and the sound of his nickname for her nearly sent her over the edge. "Don't cry."

Her hand on his shoulder, she dug her nails into his skin. "You're going to live, understand me?" She said firmly, only a tremor in her voice revealing just how shaken up she was. "You are going to _live_. I refuse to let you die."

Julian smiled again - _how the fuck was he still smiling?_ \- and leaned his forehead heavily on hers. "Oh, but I'm already done for, love," he said, his hand reaching slowly towards the wound in his abdomen. "Too late, too late now."

Annie's normally sullen blue eyes burned with a fierce light, one much similar to the one in Eren's. "You're not leaving me. You can't, you hear? _I won't allow it_."

He smirked faintly, before stumbling forward and planting a messy kiss on her forehead. Annie felt the slickness of blood on her forehead, and her veins immediately ran cold. "That's not for you to decide, isn't it? Stop being so bossy." Julian's breathing grew shallow, and he said in barely a whisper, "I'll see you.. see your pretty face again. Don't worry."

He leaned forward, lips brushing against her ear. "Run, little lion girl," Julian whispered in her ear, before he finally fell limp against her, his body cold without life.

 _No_ _,_ Annie thought.

 _No-_

Annie felt the ice spread through her entire body, the shell of what used to be Julian lying hollow in her arms.

 _"No,"_ she whispered frantically, _"Fuck, no, dammit!"_ Annie grabbed Julian's collar, shaking him back and forth as she screamed her lungs hoarse. "Come back to me, come back, _please-_ "

The tears were streaming freely now, blurring her vision. Emptiness sank into her soul like stone. "Please," she whispered, pressing her trembling lips to his.

But Julian didn't reply.

Mikasa Ackerman lowered her gaze and turned, briskly walking away to leave Annie to her grief. The rest stood stunned, rooted to the spot as they watched Annie pull Julian's body to hers, shaking as she stayed in that silent embrace. The Female Titan had been subdued; but none of them felt any glory, not even a tiny speck of victory. The leaves of the trees around them seemed to rustle in a conspiratorial kind of affliction, whispering their sadness and sorrow.

And far from the scene, where the traces of a fresh battle still smouldered, a green scarf lay tattered and singed on the grass, a memory of a better past already forgotten.


End file.
